#and thranduil is a ton better in the book

[to-fall-or-not-to-fall]

ok so i was thinking about stuff

and imo denethor latches onto how much better boromir is mostly after he dies

like yes the palantir has def been influencing him and he's been slipping into general hopelessness but we see that even in merry and pippin

and i make no claims regarding his parenting while he still has two living sons

but it really seems like some of his behavior towards faramir is centered around how boromir SACRIFICED HIMSELF, faramir, do you see how much better your brother is than you? now go measure up by doing that and see if you're worth something after all

and thats that he literally sends faramir off on a suicide mission to prove he's just as good

to clarify i am NOT making excuses for denethor here im just mentioning smth i noticed about how much of his character esp in the movie revolves around boromir's death rather than really boromir himself

he's forgotten that even his elder son was only human

raised him on a pedestal in his mind that no one, least of all faramir who dared to live when boromir died, can ever measure up too

essentially sainthood

in life a human, in death seen as a god

or something close

[growingingreenwood]

Hello again, I just wanted to say, on your recent response to the “Thranduil is intelligent” post, thanks for explaining why he locked the dwarves away just cause they wouldn’t tell him their business. As much as I love him, I always thought that was unnecessary but your explanation makes perfect sense! So thanks for making me love him more now, haha

Yeah I'm glad it makes sense now!!

I wish they had done a little better at telling the audience the reasoning behund that particular move other than: "Thorin said something mean to me."

But yeah! Thranduil was known for being suspicious of outsiders to begin with, and was especially wary of dwarves. And then Thorin and Co arrived out of literally nowhere, and it's not like there is anything else really around so Thranduil assumes they've got it be around the stronghold for a reason, but probably can't think of one that isnt malicious.

Still, he asks Thorin why he's there in a rather polite manner, and Thorin is less than forthcoming to say the least in both the book and the movie.

In the book he literally just says "We were starving" or a variation of that no matter what Thranduil asks him. And in the movie, he's not only unhelpful but actually outright hostile.

Thranduil knows theres a chance the dwarves are perfectly docile and won't do a single thing so harm them. Slim as that chance might seem at the time.

But there's also a chance they're servants of the enemy, sent to his people with a specific task.

The repercussions of locking away a few innocent dwarves is you'll have some pissed of dwarves stareing at you with hate for a while. The repercussions of having been infiltrated and having the servants of evil fulfil whatever task they were sent to do by Sauron could literally bring the end to Greenwood.

Thorin honestly didn't give him much of a choice.

And so Thranduil Yeeted them into some cells to keep them out of trouble, but also gave them tons of good and stuff so like 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

Could've really been worse.

[imagine-organization-xiii]

Organization XIII - Parenthood

Suggested by: Anon. Hope you enjoy this!  Sorry that it took so long to post!

Note: I labeled whether or not the kids are boys or girls because it is a bit easier to write about and, by law (as far as I am aware, the last time I checked), a doctor is required to put one of the two on the birth certificate.  This is not meant to be disrespectful to anyone who is Transgender or Genderfluid.  Both  are wonderful and valid.

Xemnas

Rating: 6/10; It’s a boy!

Never wanted to be a father - and it’s father, not dad - and slightly resentful of you for making him one even though he’s just as guilty as you are.  Tries not to hold it against you, but it’s difficult.  But then... he sees an opportunity.  This is his kid - his own flesh and blood that holds wonderful potential to be one of the most powerful people to have ever lived.  With your power and his combined in one tiny package, your son has the potential to lead the organization one day and damn if that doesn’t make him go a complete 180 on the whole ‘kid thing’ then idk what would.

Makes sure that his son has the best education with the best tutors, is mentored in arts, math, science, music, etc.  Wants your boy to become a well-rounded individual with a wide arsenal of skills at his disposal.  Want to slit a man’s throat and have to perform at a piano recital immediately after?  You got it.

His son is more like him than either of them ever realize - think Legolas and Thranduil from Lord of the Rings, just more ruthless and less blonde - and they fight often, but there is actually no one that they trust more than each other.  Sees your boy as more of an ally than a child.

Xigbar

Rating: 3.5/10; It’s a girl!

Xigbar! is! truly! an! idiot!  He’s better than Larxene in that he’s like... present for 98% of the girl’s life, but he’s... so damn overbearing that it borders on possessive.  It was okay when she was a baby - when he was nothing more than an overprotective first time dad - but the hovering never faded and it bothers your daughter more and more as she grows up to be a beautiful teenager.

She’s definitely smarter than him and smarter than he gives her credit for.  Mastered the art of sneaking around him - with your help - and doesn’t know that he knows when the two of you are being sneaky because he’s just that observant.

Your daughter knows that he means well, and that’s what matters.  He knows how terrible the world is and how awful people can be - because he’s literally one of them - so even if he’s overbearing and has a tendency to overreact to small thing, he means well and looks out for his kid because he knows that not many other people care about her wellbeing like he does.

Xaldin

Rating: 6/10; It’s a girl!

Has no idea what being a parent means or how to be one or what he has to do and knows nothing whatsoever about babies.  He’s fine with it, obviously, and he loves the kid and loves you, but he literally has no idea what he’s doing and it shows.  May not be the best parent but he puts in the effort where he can and it shows.

He’ll literally go to the ends of the earth to protect his daughter.  One thing he does know is how to fight, so heaven help anyone who dares lay so much as a finger on her without her permission.  He’s the one who ends up training her how to fight, though you had to put a stop to it when she was just a toddler and tried to play with one of his lances in her little baby fist.  “You can teach her how to fight, but let’s wait a few years until she can hold one of the lances without the urge to put it in her mouth, okay?  God only knows where they’ve been.”

Soft and compassionate and gets better as your little one grows older and he gets used to holding her and being around her.  No longer afraid of accidentally hurting her and literally thrives when his grumpy, blank face makes her giggle with her chubby cheeks and toothless grin.

Vexen

Rating: 5/10; It’s a boy!

He’s a fairly decent parent, but he goes back and forth with being cold and clinical and being a hovering worrywart.  There’s really no balance between the two and sometimes it’s hard to gauge his moods.

Can sometimes be distant, but you and your son try not to take it personally because that’s just his nature.  Sometimes he just closes in on himself without even realizing it when he gets caught up in a test or experiment, but that doesn’t mean that his child isn’t almost always in his thoughts in one way or another.

Does get points for being willing to listen to his kid.  If your son thinks that a rule is unfair, he’ll give them a chance to explain why it is unfair and then change it accordingly.

Lexaeus

Rating: 100000/10; It’s a girl!

So. Damn. Happy.  A baby crying on the day they are born is literally one of the most amazing sounds in the world and he is not ashamed to admit that he shed a few tears.

Incredibly patient.  You’ve never seen him raise his voice even slightly whenever your child got into something they weren’t supposed to or woke you both up in the middle of the night for a nightmare.  The first one to rise in the middle of the night at the sound of a cry, both because he’s eager to help and he knows that you need your rest because birth is a taxing thing.

Without a doubt, he’s the one your kid goes to for comfort for anything.  Broken heart? Skinned knee?  Bad grade?  Upset because of the rainy weather?  A fight with a friend?  Just having a bad day?  He is nearly ALWAYS the one that she’ll go to because, even if he doesn’t speak, his hugs have the power to heal any ailment.  He’s like a giant teddy bear and his hugs are a great comfort.

Zexion

Rating: 8/10; It’s a boy!

He’s definitely the silent type of parent, but one small glare from him would send your son running in the opposite direction.  He knows that if Zexion is mad that you’re doing something, you need to stop doing the thing right now.

Will read a story to him every night.  They manage to finish tons of books and classics just through reading together.  It’s the way your son learns to read for himself and, as Zexion says, ‘The best way to hear a story is to have it read to you.’

Surprisingly good coach and mentor that gives really great advice.  You think it might be a holdover from all of the books he’s read and all of the advice he’s gotten over the years, but whatever it is, it works.  Your son always goes to him for advice on everything from deep psychological issues to mundane problems in his day to day life.

Saix

Rating: 9/10; It’s a girl!

Tries his hardest not to be like his own parents, what little he remembers of them, at least.  They were distant at best and he’s often a mess when it comes to his little girl, but he tries to be a firm though guiding hand that leads her in the direction where she’ll eventually be strong enough to stand on her own.  Wants your child to be able to make her own way in the world without being under the shadow of her parents.  Just for these efforts, he gets an A++ for parenting skills.

Tries to be fair whenever possible, but can be protective too.  He’ll dote on his daughter in subtle ways, like patting her head and ruffling her hair when he passes by her, helping her in whatever it is she’s doing at the time, etc., but he certainly knows to set boundaries and knows when to put his foot down.

Like Zexion, he’s also a good mentor.  With whatever you’re doing or practicing, whether it’s writing, playing an instrument, practicing with a weapon, etc., he’ll always and forever be the best person to ask for feedback.  He’ll tell you what you’re doing right, what you’re doing wrong or need to improve on, and what you need to do to get better.

Axel

Rating: 8/10; It’s twins - one boy and one girl!

Basically takes care of Roxas and Xion, so he’s practically a dad already.

Has two baby carriers that he swears by - carries one child on his back and one on his chest.  Takes delight in surprising people that there are two kids and not one.

He’s totally nuts and everyone knows it, but you still love him anyway because he’s so good at being a dad.  Literally the cool dad that Demyx wishes he could be.

Would do laser light shows and set off fireworks in his kids rooms before you put a stop to it.

Always helping his kids do something to keep them occupied, whether that’s building something, coloring, or just chatting and joking with each other.

Demyx

Rating: 6.5/10; It’s a boy!

Demyx is super torn.  He loves his kids to pieces, but he’s torn between being the fun dad and being a good influence with a stern hand for bad behavior.  Wants to be the person that trusts their kid without hesitation and wants his kid to trust him in return, but it’s difficult to strike that balance between parent and friend.

As such, he’s often in a limbo between rule enforcer and rule breaker and often takes part in inconsistent parenting.  He’s a pushover, too, letting your kid do things or take part in activities he might be too young for.

Not really a smart decision maker, so he tends to be lax with rules and is the parent that a lot of the others want to have because he isn’t strict.

BUT, despite all of this, he is one of the best at cheering up his kid.  He always knows exactly how to pull a laugh out of your son even when the boy feels like his world is falling apart, and Demyx is very proud of 

Luxord

Rating: 7/10; It’s a girl!

Tries to be chill but is really freaking out inside, but he can’t show it because his proper English sensibilities forbid it.  Loves his daughter more than he ever shows.

Works more from behind the scenes than anything else.  Like let’s say that your kid has a particularly awful teacher who really gives her a tough time and she ends up complaining about it within Luxord’s earshot.  She’ll go to school the next day and the teacher will have mysteriously quit and moved away.

Not really cut out to be a primary caregiver, but does his best.  Will sit and tell stories at bedtime and give advice when prompted, but he tends to keep an arm’s length away.  Whether that’s because of his own stunted emotions or because he just doesn’t know how to take care of them, you aren’t quite sure.  It’s probably a bit of both.

Marluxia

Rating: 9/10; Has two twin girls!

Was doubtful that he would be a good dad but takes to it like a duck takes to water.  He’s kind, patient, caring, and almost motherly in the way he cares for your daughter.  Like Axel, he’s one of those dad’s who has that baby carrier where he carries his kid but rarely lets anyone else touch her because, well, germs.

PTA Mom; gets mad at another mom’s store bought cupcakes when everyone else ends up making things that are homemade.  Ends up starting a fight at the PTA Meeting.  Somehow also ended up roped into being a Girl Scout Troop Leader.   Surprisingly good at it.

Will name his kids after flowers.  “This one is Daisy and this one is Lily, because they’re my little flowers I get to watch blossom over the years!!!” Xigbar: “You’re literally going to make me throw up.”

Larxene

Rating: 2/10; It’s a girl!

She doesn’t want kids.  She’s never wanted kids.  She never will want kids.  Would never be the stay at home mom type of person and will probably have her significant other be the one who stays at home while she works and metaphorically brings home the bacon.  This is how it is for the majority of the time when child is a baby to about four years old.  She is there, but distant.

As the child grows older, she kind of moves into the spotlight as a... power mom?  She knows what it’s like to be stepped on because of her gender and damn if she’s going to let her daughter grow up without knowing that is valid and deserving of respect.

Tells off other moms who try to give her advice on how to raise her own child.  Larxene doesn’t take shit from anyone, and certainly not Suburban Karen who’s daughter’s name is Kayleighilieahe

[suresha]

today  was  very  long  and  mother  nature  hit  so  im  dragging  myself  to  bed.  but  in  the  meantime,  i’m  still  looking  to  play  with  some  book  /  show  canons:

spartacus  //  from  the  spartacus  starz  series  //  for  nasir

s. snape  //  to  get  my  snarry  fix

cinna  //  for  my  katniss

bard  //  from  the  hobbit  (  dads  unite  man )  for  thranduil

charles  xavier  //  xmen  //  for  my  erik  (  but  since  i  also  play  charles,  i’d  be  extremely  ridiculously  picky  to  the  the  point  where  if  the  portrayal  isn’t  close  to  how  i  envision  him  within  my  own,  it’s  not  happening ),  also  for  my  emma

magneto  //  for  my  charles  obv ( same  deal  as  above )

bruce  wayne ( nolan’s  bruce )  //  for  my  jim  gordon

sirius black, remus,  james potter, tom riddle, or any of the death eaters  //  for  my  lucius,  harry  and  /  or  severus

peter 3 or 1 //  for my  peter 2

bonnie bennett  //  for  my  damon

a boyfriend //  for my  stefan  salvatore because he deserved better 

armand /  claudia //  for  louis

mobius  //  for  loki

erik  killmonger  //  for  crossover  stuff

littlefinger  //  for  sansa 

star  wars  people??? 

anime  wise...

grimmjow  and  itchigo  //  for  toshiro

lancer  or  anyone  really  from  the  fate  series  //  for  gil and saber

kakashi  //  for  my  iruka  or  gaara

gojo  (  jujutsu  kaisen )  //  for  my kakashi

erwin  //  for  my  capt  levi

jean / connie / sasha,  ect  //  for  my armin

kai  ( beyblade )  //  for  my  ygo  muses

itachi,  sasuke, lee  //  for  neji  ( or sasuke for gaara )

there’s  a  shit  ton  more  but  eh  i  need  sleep.  imma  pin  this  post...or  add  a  link  to  my  pinned  post  and  update  it  as  needed. im  pree  picky  about  writing  so  pls  be  literate.  ok? ok.  also  this  doesn’t  mean  i  want  to  romantically  ship  all  these.  i  just  want  the  interactions,  feel  me?  and  crossovers?  usually  welcome  them.

bedtime for me. o/

[tkwrtnewsfeed]

Newsfeed #99 April 2, 2018 (2 Víressë)

BRACE YOURSELF--CHANGES ARE COMING.

Not a great deal of changes--just Stepford Wives kinda changes. All my web presences much change for the betterment of mankind: or in order to prove I’m worthy of a little blue check thing in order to separate my work from others (mostly Tolkien) and so people stop thinking I’m a fan of my own work.

I’ve seen fan art of The Kingdom of the Woodland Realm Trilogy; I’ve seen the really weird hashtag “tkwr fan fiction”, “the saga of thranduil movie�� even. It’s creepy. I don’t have 10,000 followers, but I do have a number of NYT Best-Selling Authors and a handful of celebrities and bucket full of publishers over on Twitter (Models love Thranduil on Instagram--and he’s starting to pick up a lot of male readers) so it’s time to become “bona-fide” as it were.

I have to clean up my act, so to speak. 💥

So, no more politics on my personal pages; deleting tons of unrelated things on my blogs (not the book blogs; relax), possibly deleting whole sites I don’t use anymore) changing descriptions, designs & layouts--the whole shebang. 💥 Even my name: going by Jaynaé Marie Miller (my birth name actually complete with the little accent).✅ It’s kinda like an audition for Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, as it were. I guess it would have happened eventually--I was thinking by the time I was sixty or dead--but oh, well.

This will take a while--but I’m hoping to be done by May 1 because that is the start of Legolas’ Birthday Month and in June another release is coming. There’s still the matter of other things (podcasts and websites for the actual book, but baby steps, first).

I won’t be commenting on things for a while--sorry about that. I have to unblock people (wow, I guess I’ll have to talk to my family again) and my professional résumé will be out there in the world for all to see (which does include poetry, plays and screenplays). As if getting bunch of elves to Doriath isn’t hard enough, I have to go ‘public’ with them all.

Not that I wasn’t public in the first place, it’s just that this is kinda like being famous or something. It’s pretty serious now: I mean, aside from the great reviews and actual book critics just waiting for a “real book” to rip me to shreds, I can’t even look for Elrond without running into myself on Google these days. 

I even have fake celebrities--yeah, that’s not the real Richard, I follow the real one. But this account seems to mirror him; I haven’t looked in a while and I lost a few people--equaling about the number of fake celebrities following me. I don’t know if they thought I was a fake celebrity but if they did, I’m sorta flattered but I know at least one I talk to, so at least he knows who I am--our cats match (no, it isn’t Lee Pace--later--but the guy does know Richard Armitage, the real one).

So, I’m making a few changes to reflect the on-coming storm of “strange and unusual” that’s coming. Never thought I’d make it to the day I would have to become “verified”.

Just like Lee. 😯 

Welcome to the next chapter for the Elves of Mirkwood.

Images: ©2012, 2013, 2014. Warner Brothers Pictures/New Line Cinema/Wingnut Productions. The Hobbit: The Unexpected Journey, The Hobbit: Desolation of Smaug, The Hobbit: Battle of the Five Armies. All Rights Reserved.

[lady-byleth]

Uuuuuuh

I was tagged by @sindar-princeling , thank you, darling! ♥

Rules: Answer the questions and then tag 20 people (yeah right) who you want to get to know better.

Name: Melanie

Nickname(s): Mel, MelMel, Melli, Lady, Greenwood, Greenie...take your pick xD

Zodiac Sign: Scorpio, I don’t care what NASA says

Hogwarts House: Ravenclaw, apparently (I just took the test on pottermore)

Gender: female

Orientation: biromantic asexual

Favorite Fruit: banana

Favorite Season: Anything but summer.

Favorite Book Series: Puh, too many. Anything Tolkien, Captive Prince, The Three Investigators (Germany has tons more than any other country lol), Star Wars EU...I can’t think of more

Favorite Fictional Characters: Legolas, Maedhros, Glorfindel, Ecthelion, Aragorn, Thranduil, Lúthien (Tolkien, obvs), Fai and Kurogane (Tsubasa Chronicle), Kazuki and Soushi (Soukyuu no Fafner), Diana of Themyscira (Wonder Woman, duh), Kara Danvers and Clark Kent (Supergirl)

Favorite Flower: Cherry blossoms and white lilies

Favorite Color: blue, green and silver

Favorite Animal: Cats, dogs, horses, the mice I have to keep saving from my cats, penguins...

Favorite Artists/Bands: *has no concept of how to like one band consistently*

Average Sleep: what exactly is a sleep schedule?

Number of blankets I sleep with: one, though I use it more to cuddle than to cover

Last thing I Googled: Banana, to make sure they’re actually considered fruits. Turns out, they are berries. 

How many blogs I follow: 116, though half of theose are probably inactive by now

Number of Followers: 424. what are y’all even doing here xD

What I usually post about: anything I find funny or important, lots of Tolkien right now, Tsubasa, anime I like in general, RoosterTeeth stuff...I am very inconsistent

My Aesthetic™: depending on what my mood is....either watercolours, nature retaking civilization, stars, Elves and bows and swords and circlets in silver and gold, women in practical armour...

I tag... @erichan8 @livonata @dozusumbrella @ugh-my-back @pecanlovesraccoon and that’s it for now :3 thanks again for tagging me, love :*

[nerddface-has-moved]

Reversus Est

Characters: Thranduil Oropherion, female!elven!reader, the Mirkwood Trash Squad

Warnings: Angst. Maybe badly-written angst. 

Word Count: 4391 ahahaha I went way overboard

Notes: I am fully versed in Elven customs/life cycle (more like Arda-Mandos-with-hopefully-a-lot-more-Arda-than-Mandos cycle), trust me. You’re talking to the girl who literally copied the entirety of Tolkien’s appendices/auxiliary works by hand into notebooks so she could highlight and write her nerd thoughts without ruining the actual books.

That being said, this work ignores ALL OF IT. 

I LOVE THE ELVENKING AND I WANT HIM TO LOVE BACK.

Alternatively titled: Molly did some more linguistic stapling. 

As always, full translations at the end, in the order in which they appear. And boy, are there a shit ton in this one. Fair warning. Nothing brings me more joy than characters speaking in their native language when surrounded by people who share it and have no real reason to be speaking in anything else (other than for reader comprehension, of course, but I only torture you guys because I love you).

Based off of this (or these) (x)

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Sometimes it was not war, or foreign relations, or the life-or-death decisions that Thranduil had to face as King that were the most challenging aspects of ruling. Sometimes, the thing that made him grit his teeth and spit fire was dealing with the people whom he ruled.

Y/N had been in his walls for nearly five hundred years, now, nearly as long as his son had been walking, and in his bed for half that time. He didn’t expect her to be so-- she had come as an advisor, and at the time he had every intent to keep her as nothing more. But somehow, through quietly shared sunrises and sunsets, her gentle confidence and wisdom had slowly driven a cork into the gaping hole his late wife had left in his heart. She had a certain spark of curiosity and independence that he had seldom seen in creatures her age, and it intrigued him endlessly.

Her spark was also the problem. It was as if one Y/N simply up and abandoned her body when she sat down at the war table, and another, bolder, fiery Y/N took her place. This Y/N had a tendency to speak further than she had agency, occasionally testing his authority and pushing the boundaries of her own.

He didn’t mean to snap so harshly at her, but a hundred different things had been plaguing his mind for days, and his patience had been worn to silken strands. When Y/N spoke up as she usually did, objecting his proposition for tighter control on trade relations, white-hot fire flared in his chest. Usually he responded to her with a short, dull comment to put her gently back in her place, but today he could not grind down his tongue.

For a moment, he regretted speaking. Any other man would be angry, would storm away and curse his name.

Y/N’s form of anger was different. She didn’t cry, she didn’t shout, she didn’t cast a glare across a room when they shared a glance. If one were unfortunate enough to be present when something upset her, there was no more than a spark of anger in her eyes before her face fell into an unsettling stoicism and her life continued almost as if nothing had ever happened. She was icily civil to her opponent, and absolutely nothing more.

“Gohenanin, âr nín,” she had said, only hinting at her scathed feelings, and was silent for most of the remainder of the council.

When her time was over, and matters moved to areas not in her jurisdiction, she excused herself, and stood to leave. He couldn’t stop her-- this was when she would typically depart, and he couldn’t keep her without disrupting the flow of the conversation and blatantly play favorite. He dismissed her as usual, and offered a standard, gentle farewell.

Her eyes held only a tepid kind of look for him now, one she reserved for imposing strangers as she returned it smoothly. He wanted to stop this damned meeting and apologize, to take her into his arms until her stiff shoulders loosened and she quieted, until she understood he loved her.

He had no choice but her watch her go, gliding across the catwalks from him, ripping a distance between them.

~

Y/N had had it. Proving her worth and maintaining her place on the Elvenking’s war council was difficult enough, and she had very little patience for comments that came from Thranduil’s mouth.

But if there was anything her parents had taught her, it was to never let her anger show. She glided through the cavernous halls of the palace with no one the wiser to her swirling emotions, and slipped quietly out a side entrance between guard rotations, so as not to alert anyone to her absence. She was almost caught by Eredhon passing the wine cellar, but a short word revealed he was slightly buzzed, as per usual, and he would likely forget he saw her in the coming hours.

The forest was always calming to her. She used to venture into the hills back home, in Imladris, for hours, listening to the trees whisper and the animals chatter to one another. The Greenwood wasn't home, the trees were broader-reaching and leafy as opposed to mountain pine, but forests all had a sense of peace, no matter where they were. Y/N was devastated to have seen this one sicken over the last century, the bright leaves and young wood weeping and shattering, leaving her with a creeping feeling of dread instead of calming. The illness seemed to weaken its grip around the river, up to the very north of the Rhrovanion, and she made her way there now, fuming more the further she got from the palace and others.

She didn't realize it was getting dark until a cool breeze prickled her skin, and a rustling in the brush in the near distance turned her blood cold. She didn’t bring a weapon with her, thinking she wouldn’t be gone long. But as the noise drew nearer, and louder, her bravery chilled into fear, and her mind abandoned all semblance of confidence.

It was stupid to have left like this. Maiar, why did her pride have to get the best of her? If she was wounded by one of the forest’s creatures, she’d never hear the end of it. Hell, Thranduil probably wouldn’t let her leave the palace unattended again.

The rustle was incredibly close, now, and in the distance her keen ears picked up the voices of the evening guard. She took a step forward, feeling relieved that she was safe, until it was slaughtered by a broad hand covering her mouth. Another held a razor-sharp blade to her neck, tight enough to draw a thin line of blood.

“Struggle and I will slit your throat.” the deep voice of the man at her back threatened, and she stiffened. He dragged her back into the thick brush, forcing her to the ground, his hands still in place at her face and throat.

The patrol grew slightly closer, and she could see a familiar flash of flaxen hair.

Thranduil’s voice rang out over the forest. “Tiria di il toss, il gond, il sîr, adel il galadh! Fara dad i ungol! Deid’ecces!”

She struggled and cried out, but her captor’s hands held tighter, keeping her still and muffled. The blade pressed harder. “I won't warn you again.”

She caught the light auburn hair of Meludir, one of the forest guard, flanked by his brother, followed by Leuthil and Orithil, and led by Eredhon. Merenon searched the trees just to her left, his eyes passing right over her, still with fear. Eredhon called his attention, and in the distance, Feren called the group back, to head further down the slightly-hidden side path she usually took.

Tears welled in her eyes. They were so close.

But their footfalls faded, and the loud, crisp baritone of her lover’s voice turned to a muffled sound, leaving her with only her own breath and the breath of her captor.

When he was sure the elves had gone, and were well out of earshot in the opposite direction, he hauled her up, gripping her forearms hard enough to leave bruises. He seemed to know where he was going, and within a few minutes, she could see the glow of a fire in the distance.

Suddenly, a broad blade flashed from the darkness, stopping both of them in their tracks and holding her throat in place. She blinked at the large man that stepped from the shadows, glaring first at her captor, then at her. His hair caught the beams of moonlight coming in patches through the canopy and held them fastly; beautiful, if she weren’t currently at the wrong end of his sword and being kidnapped.

“What the hell is this?!” his voice rumbled deep, his words nearly coming out a growl.

“Found her running from the King and his patrol, Boss.”

‘Boss’ studied her through narrowed eyes, and the camp was silent for a moment as he lowered his sword. “She wasn’t really running, was she.”

It sounded like more of a question directed towards her than anything else. She didn’t give an answer, but it seemed her silence was just as telling, as his eyes flickered over her clavicle, and her clothing. His eyes sharpened as he looked back up at her captor behind her.

“Did you not see what she’s wearing? That necklace? The King would have your head or worse if he’d have found you. Hell, if he finds you now, we’re all done for.”

Her captor’s hands tensed, tightening her bonds with the movement. “I thought, Boss, that we--”

“Whatever you thought,” Boss snapped, “was idiotic. There’s no chance of ransom with a pet like this, not before we have silver shoved down our throats. Let her go and they’ll find us before we can get out of the forest.”

“Better to kill her?” the voice at her ear asked. Her heart skipped a beat, and tears fell anew.

“No.” He didn’t give a reason.

“Are you sure, Boss? Because I--”

“I said no.”

That was the end of the matter, apparently.

Y/N didn’t hold back her tears as she spoke, hoping they would help to convince them to release her. “No one will know what happened, I-I promise.”

Boss shook his head. “No. Thranduil will get his answer one way or another. I don’t want to take that chance.” He turned his gaze to the man who still held her wrists. “Your mistake will cost you. She stays with us. We’ll find a use for her. Pack up. We’re leaving.”

Despair made Y/N’s throat close, her heart fell to her soles, and she dropped her head. She knew the Elvenking wouldn’t leave for weeks on end to search for her, even if he desperately wanted to-- his kingdom needed running, and he wasn’t a foolish man. Besides, he probably thought she had been so angry with him that she left for good of her own will.

Both of them knew her captors would never return to Mirkwood; it was too close, and any patrols that they encountered would recognize her, without a doubt.

It’s in her best bet, she decided, to be on her best behavior, to understand these men. The more they trusted her, the more freedoms they would grant her, and the more opportunity she would have to escape. The shackle and chain that they attached to her ankle to keep her close to camp put a wrench in her plans, but it hurt her pride more than anything else.

Osmond was the leader, 'Boss'-- a large, scarred man with dark eyes and few words. His hair was indeed snowy white, despite his relatively young face, and he kept it tied back at the base of his skull. His face and shoulders were scarred heavily, looking like life had tossed him around a little too roughly. He regarded her with what she might call sympathy, sometimes, when no one else was around.

Lorn, the one who had captured her, was just as broad as Osmond in stature. He was hot-headed, impulsive, and cared little about what anyone else thought. He seemed to rein himself in just as far as Osmond’s patience went, considering he was “the boss,” but that was as far as his self-control went. Times when the boss wasn’t around typically ended up being painful. He never hurt her far enough to slow them down, and he always got a solid blow from Osmond upon his return, but he never took the punishment too seriously, and she dreaded times when the snow-haired leader departed camp.

Landen and Adger she was introduced to later that night. They were twins, gangly things, with long blond hair and sparse beards. They enjoyed toying with her, little things that made her life slightly more uncomfortable. Thankfully, they were the scouts of the group, of sorts, and were away for most of the day.

None of them spoke to her in length, for whatever their own reasons. Though she was around people, her days were lonely. They fed her enough to keep her going, and re-clothed her in something suited more for the road, and much less flashy than her evening gown, which was sure to have gotten her noticed. Osmond kept the garment-- selling it would garner attention to where he might have gotten it, and he was not one to take risks to possible connections.

Osmond did find a purpose for her, and she made good use of her navigational skills-- as it turned out, though the group had brains and brawn, they were piss-poor mapmakers, and their maps were always leading them wrong. Y/N had grown up a nomad in her family’s hunting party, so she knew how to work the land, and how to mark it on paper. She just hoped it would remain useful and keep her alive long enough for her to figure out how to escape.

She was sitting one evening, sketching out another portion of the forest around them, when Lorn turned from the fire and disappeared into the tree line, leaving his dagger in easy reach on the log. Though it felt like that dagger was plunging itself into her chest, she didn’t touch it. They were testing her.

Lorn returned a few minutes later to see both Y/N and his weapon exactly where they had been when he departed. He spared her a glance and sheathed it as he sat down. Behind her, there was the slight rustle of a tent flap falling back into place.

~

The next morning, she woke to the clattering of her leash. She jerked upright, ready to stand, but Osmond was fiddling with the opposite end, not even glancing up at her as she started.

After a couple of moments, he stood, holding the extra feet in links he had lengthened her chain with. “Better chance to get some sleep. Can’t have you slowing us down.” Then he returned to his morning tasks, disregarding her entirely as he always did.

A couple months later, she was trudging along behind Landen and Adger, feeling entirely discouraged. Osmond wasn’t stupid enough to give her full freedom- he knew she could wait out just as long as he could. She hadn’t the slightest on how she would escape, or lead someone to her that would recognize her and help. Her eyes drifted over the thick trees on either side of the path, and frowned at a couple that looked like they had been scraped at, and noted to perhaps mention to Osmond that a large buck had probably made them, and may still be living in the territory.

Adger laughed loudly, drawing her attention, and she noticed Osmond turn left at an approaching fork in the road. She frowned harder. Something seemed familiar.

Wait. She recognized this route. This was the same road Thranduil took on his annual journey to the recently reclaimed Erebor as a trade emissary. She had only accompanied him once, last season, but Noroth was molting around the time of their trip, and his antlers made those broad gouges in the trees where he scratched them.

Her brain started working in overdrive.  If she could pocket a stone sharp enough, she could probably manage to carve something  into the soft, young bark over the wood Noroth had exposed. Maidh, “fawn”, was one of the many pet names Thranduil had given her, and by far one of his favorites .Her lover was sure to notice it, if she could indeed do what she hoped she could, and he may find reason enough to begin his search again. The group stayed close enough to the road that she could reach a tree within sight of the path.

Hope surged through her veins. It was nearing the time Thranduil would depart, and if Osmond kept this close to the path and following it, she may have a chance.

Thus, each day, while the camp was in rest, or most of the group was hunting for supper, she snuck away, and carved a name into the trees, leaving a trail. Her leash was typically just long enough, and if she was steady with her feet, the chain didn’t rattle suspiciously. As the weeks passed and she carved more, she began to feel hope once more.

That is, until one afternoon.

She was carving into the trunk, almost finished, when heavy footfalls approached her from behind. She knew them immediately as Lorn, and turned to see him studying her work with a menacing kind of curiosity. Surely he knew what she was doing; he was a brute, but he wasn’t brainless.

“You’ve been leading them to us,” he growled. “This is the last time it will happen. I knew it was foolish to trust you. Your trail ends here.”

She took a step back from the tree, her blood running cold. She was so close. If the party followed like she hoped, they’d find her within the week. “W-won’t the boss be angry?”

He sneered. “I don’t care.” Metal sung in the air as he drew his broadsword, and she scrambled back in an attempt to distance herself, but the brace and chain around her ankle tugged suddenly, and she fell to her back.

Lorn lifted his sword, intent to kill her, and she screwed her eyes shut. Always that close. Hopefully Thranduil had moved on by now, so when he found her dead, it wouldn’t be too hard.

But the blow never came. The man squealed, instead, and fell back, and she barely caught a flash of white and silver as she ducked her head in fear.

A thin sword came to her throat, guiding her chin up, and what her eyes met almost made her heart stop.

Thranduil looked worn. His cheeks were hollowed and his normally bright skin was dull. His moonlight hair fell flat on his shoulders. His gaze was hard, but there was a different note to it, an iciness, perhaps not as noticeable to just anyone, but she wasn’t just anyone. His shoulders were just as broad and squared and  regally held as always, but… he seemed wilted. She couldn’t believe how tired he looked, after just a year.

It seemed like he was just as shocked as she was, and in a moment, his weapon fell to the dirt. His blue eyes glossed like she’d never seen before, and he just about collapsed to his knees before her. His pale fingers reached out to her face, slowly and unsteadily, as if she were mist that would dissipate if he moved too quickly.

Y/N blinked, and tears fell down her cheeks. Thranduil brushed them away softly, almost reverently, and traced the backs of his fingers across her cheekbone.

“Gilgalad’en,” he murmured. “Your symbols... This is… real?”

“I hope so,” she breathed. “Because I might just die if it isn’t.”

He took a lock of hair in his free hand, his thumb smoothing over the familiar texture. He looked at her a moment longer, then lunged forward, enveloping her in his arms with a fervor that brought sobs to her throat.

“I never stopped looking,” he whimpered. “Never.”

She cried into his chest, thankful beyond belief that he was really here. A broad hand braced the back of her neck, and the heavy scent from his thick cloak enveloped her. He soothed her under his breath, speaking words she only half understood.

“Odulen an edraith angin, maidh. Gohenanin, an ngell nîn. Gi melin, gilgalad’en. Av-'osto.” Maidh stood out in the hum of comfort that blanketed her ears, and it solidified the concept that she was finally safe.

“Hîr vuin?” one of the guards who had accompanied the Elvenking stepped forward. “Boe’m an dadwen. Anglenna’dû.”

Thranduil peeled himself reluctantly away from her, and looked down to her ankle when her movement rattled the metal.

“What have they done to you?” he growled, looking up.

“Feren!” he barked, and the captain stepped forward. “Break this.” He gestured to the brace at her ankle. Y/N watched his face meanwhile, feeling as though he would vanish if she looked away.

He looked back to her, and his face softened. He took her face gently in his palms and pressed a long-awaited kiss to the corner of her mouth. Her tears had yet to cease, and his silken fingers dried her cheeks as Feren and Merenon pried at the padlock. After a moment. it snapped open with a sharp clang.

“Tolo ar nin,” Thranduil beckoned, moving to stand. Her legs were unsteady, but she managed to put weight on them. They took less than half a dozen steps toward the treeline before her lover bent at the waist, lifted one of her arms around his shoulders, and swept a strong arm under her knees to lift her to his chest.

“Os man an adanath?” Feren asked reservedly.

“Togti ah men,” Thranduil returned, his voice flat, without looking back.

At the tree line was Noroth and the half a dozen castle guard’s mounts. Thranduil lifted Y/N easily into his elk’s saddle, and turned to his guard captain, who was leading Osmond and the twins. She didn’t meet their gaze.

“Anim innas nor’núf. Rethci di Eredhon. Tirith-deid eithro. Boe enni glennalim.”

“Hîr vuin,” Feren protested. “Alpol lav de glenna ero. Leuthil ah Orithil innas men’di.”

Thranduil nodded. “Anmae.” He swung into Noroth’s saddle behind Y/N, his chest pressed firmly to her back, and called for Leuthil and Orithil to mount and follow.

“Ava sen,” he commanded Feren, before turning and spurring his mount into a swift gallop.

~

The ride back to the palace took not an hour, and almost before she had even been lowered to the ground was Thranduil barking for her to be attended. The King only let her out of his sight as she was tended to for a moment, and dismissed the gathered maids to lead her to her prepared bath.

He didn't pry her for answers as his hands massaged floral soaps into her skin, reserved and gentle as he had no idea what state her mind was in. Truth be told, she wasn’t quite sure, either. A large part of her was relieved, blessed that she had been returned to her home without lasting harm. A smaller part worried, strangely, for the trio that remained. Valar knew Thranduil would have no semblance of mercy. And part of her yet felt they had no right to continue their lives painlessly after they interrupted hers. She tried to ignore the war that raged in her chest.

Thranduil provided welcome distraction when he beckoned her to stand, and wrapped her in a soft,  velvety robe.

He sat her at the large vanity in their quarters-- his quarters, really, but hers had been all but abandoned in the last century, and picked up a brush, sweeping her hair over her shoulders.

She was silent as he smoothed the tangles from her tresses, and watched him pick up another bottle of oil to nourish the ends that had become flayed over the last year. He caught glance after glance of her face, but never spoke, waiting for her to let him in. When she couldn’t hold back the single question that had been prodding at her tongue since she was brought back into the palace walls, she opened her mouth and spoke.

“Why did you keep looking?”

This made him pause. “Why do you ask, melethril?”

She knit her brow and took a moment to answer, his hands stilled in her hair. “Perhaps... because... I am not...” she couldn’t quite get the words out right, and toyed with her fingers as Thranduil pulled out the second stool and took a seat to look at her.

“I don’t know.” And honestly, she didn’t. She had thought of a hundred different reasons why he would stop. His gaze told her to carry on, and she heaved a teary sigh. “Because there was so much to lose by expending the kingdom’s resources searching for something you would never find, because spending time away from rest or food hurts you, because I am not your wife and some days I couldn’t think of a reason why you would want me to return--”

Her words caught in her throat, choked by breath that was coming too quickly. Her vision wavered with emotion and fresh tears, and the King took her into his arms for what felt like the thousandth time that day, smelling sweet of lavender and roses.

“Y/N, my darling,” he hummed, his heart thudding in his chest. “You are not her. But I would never wish you to be, for that would erase every aspect that only you hold, and I fell in love with. I never gave up because I knew you were not so easily held. If you loved me as much as I believed- as much as I do believe- you would find your way back to me.” he took a short breath. “Perhaps you have not noticed it, mallos, but I am not the only one in this kingdom who is glad to see you home. I was not the only one whom your absence pained, nor am I the only one who put forth an effort to see you return. Though, I must say, no one suffered as acutely as I, nîdh, for I could not live without the very breath in my lungs.”

It was a wonder Y/N hadn’t drowned in her tears, and there would be plenty more to come.

They would be tears of pain, of sorrow, of fear, over the coming weeks, and tears of joy in the following year, when Thranduil asked for her hand in marriage. She would tremble, that night in his arms, in years, when she worried for the fate of Arda when Sauron rose again from the ashes of his rule, and when she brought her husband’s daughter into the reclaimed Middle Earth. There would be many sleepless nights, for better or for worse, but Thranduil had let her go once, and there was nothing that could make it happen again.

She was home.

Full sentences:

-Tiria di il toss, il gond, il sîr, adel il galadh! Fara dad i ungol! Deid’ecces! (Look under every bush, every rock, every stream, behind every tree! Hunt down the spiders! Find her!)

-Odulen an edraith angin, maidh. Gohenanin, an ngell nîn. Gi melin, gilgalad’en. Av-'osto. (I’m here to save you, fawn. Forgive me, please. I love you, my starlight. Do not fear.)

-Boe’m an dadwen. Anglenna’dû. (We need to return. Nightfall approaches)

-Anim innas nor’núf. Rethci di Eredhon. Tirith-deid eithro. Boe enni glennalim.  (I ride ahead. Eredhon remains with you. His guard also. I must travel swiftly.)

-Hîr vuin. Alpol lav de glenna ero. Leuthil ah Orithil innas men’di. (My lord, I cannot allow you to travel alone. Leuthil and Orithil will accompany you.)

Individual words:

Gohenanin (forgive me)

Âr nín (my King)

Gilgalad’en (my starlight)

Odulen an edraith angin (I came for saving for [familiar] you)

An ngell nîn (please [lit. for my joy])

Maidh (fawn, pale)

Av-’osto (do not fear)

Gi melin (I love [familiar] you)

Hîr vuin (beloved lord)

Boe’m (it is necessary for us)

An (for)

dadwen (return)

Tolo ar nin (come with me)

Os man an adanath (what of the men)

Togti ah men (bring them with us)

Anmae (very well)

Ava sen (do not allow them to escape [loosely] [also sen is quenya shhhhh])

Melethril (lover [feminine])

Mallos (flower of gold)

Nîdh (honeycomb)

[tkwrtnewsfeed]

Newsfeed #87 August 13, 2017 (13 Úrimë)

Planning something for the end of 2017--and my birthday.

I have a milestone birthday coming up and I want to share something with readers. First of all, it is the first time in a while that my birthday is on the day I was born--Labor Day. September 4--same as Beyonce’s. My dad forgets me on Beyonce’s birthday. Everyone forgets me on Beyonce’s birthday.

Good news: I was born before Beyonce so she was born on my birthday. This year I’ll be 45 years old. No, I don’t look 45--my dad is 86 and looks 65. Beside the point--it’s the birthday I’ve been waiting for since I was 27. Don’t ask, I’m weird.

Anyway, whatever comes during the Christmas season will be a hair larger than what comes on September 4. There are tons of things I could share--with Book I: The Epic of Eryn Galen just starting, there is more than enough. It has been hard to get started after three weeks of Thranduil-themed activities on Facebook--three fan interviews (I got some tough questions and I loved it). This year has been good for The Kingdom of the Woodland Realm Trilogy (knock on wood). It was one year July 14 that I finished the first 360 pages. Now its going through editing while I work on Book I and a lot of technical things:

The currently popular thing on Instagram--the first draft of the Royal Family of Eryn Galen (as it is in Book II: The Saga of Thranduil). It is incomplete at the moment because getting the entire thing together has taken about 7 months and after learning a few new things from Tolkien, it just got longer. But it’s the beginning. I might just get this done by September 4. I don’t know. Still thinking.

I don't know what people have heard, but my only goal is making sure my story is accurate and well-written. Where it goes from when it’s complete is for fate to decide. Personally, I am the least concerned with any form of “excitement and intrigue” surrounding this book. I just focus on the story. I want it to be good as its own thing. If I wrote it to impress anyone it was my Dad whom when I started this was very ill and I wanted to do this before he died. He’s still here (just spoke with him). I was given another chance with my Dad and I thank the Heavens for that.

Even when I started this, I was diagnosed with a fatal illness that went into remission the very day I finished the first 360 pages on July 14 2016. It’s a miracle book, you can say. The better it is, the more miracles I think it makes. That could be me just feeling blessed to be able to write this and the humility I feel for those that like it. All I know is sometimes, with all the activity, I don’t get to do as much writing as I would like. I got to do some yesterday when tragedy in Charlottesville erupted. So much hatred and fear that I know even Thranduil had to overcome. But when it hits home (Travel advisory in Missouri for people of color due to rise in hate crimes by the police), it’s hard to be optimistic sometimes.

I still go there to find solace while the world is at war with itself. The Elves will fight when called, but they are a peaceful race and culture. Like people, they are not perfect and can mess up. But trying to right a wrong makes them and anyone perfect. So I’ll surprise readers on September 4 and sometime near Christmas with something TKWR Trilogy related. For readers, for Tolkien and for my Dad.--J.

Thank you for reading. Thank you for following me. Thank you for everything. You are forever in my heart. ☺️ 

Pray for Charlottesville, Virginia. ☮️ For Heather Heyer. ❤️